


Arts

by yeaka



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-17 16:53:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28603248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Noct gets photographed.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 51





	Arts

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Final Fantasy XV or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

The photographer arrives seven minutes late, which isn’t a good sign, because if she can’t be punctual for _the royal crown_ , of all clients, Ignis can only imagine what she’s like for regular human beings to work with. She shows up at the gates with no apologies and a flat expression that suggests she’s already bored. She plays with her grey-brown hair and her phone while Ignis explains the kind of portrait the council would like of their prince. He gets the distinct impression that she’ll take whatever shots she likes and sell the negatives to the paparazzi.

They should’ve just hired Prompto. If it was up to Ignis, they would’ve, because Prompto would’ve shown up _early_ , eager to serve, would never betray any secrets of the Citadel, and would absolutely catch Noctis in the best light, even if he tends to think that Noctis is _always_ in good light. But at the end of the day, the council isn’t as progressive, and they chose a high-profile name over the prince’s own best friend. She eyes up the burly glaives lining the stairs as they walk to the lobby, and Ignis won’t be at all surprised if she ends up taking one home with her and getting even more inside information.

They reach the elevator, and once the door’s closed on them, Ignis adds, “We would also appreciate touching up in post, where applicable.”

She lifts a brow, as though to ask if he really thinks the prince will need it. He’s toted as a particularly handsome bachelor, and Ignis would be the first to profess Noctis’ beauty. But the public is relentless, and Noctis has absolutely obliterating his sleep schedule ever since the new Justice Monsters console port came out. He’s been up at all hours, then sleeping right through the day, and the circles under his eyes have become almost as dark as his hair. They don’t at all diminish him in Ignis’ eyes, but the press can be far less tolerant. 

They stop on the right floor, and Ignis guides her along the corridor. Noctis is in the lounge, having been all but dragged by Gladiolus earlier, made to sit and threatened with handcuffs—he’s going to endure this session whether he likes it or not, because the press has been clamouring for more glimpses of their illustrious royalty, and Noctis is in much better shape to be doing photographs than his father. Ignis is glad to see Gladiolus still standing watch outside the open doorway, because surely if Noctis had managed to escape, his shield would be hot on his heels. 

Noctis is waiting inside, right where Ignis left him, perched on a lavish burgundy divan furnished with gold. He’s sitting straight, head turned to the side, and his profile’s truly stunning—an arresting picture in the warm glow of the sun through the open curtains and the bright chandelier above. He doesn’t look up when Ignis comes in, because he’s staring straight at Prompto, occupying the next cushion over. 

Prompto has a hand under Noctis’ chin and the other around a black pen, carefully tracing Noctis’ right eye. His left is already encircled, the liner thin enough to barely be distinguishable as makeup, but the effect is breath-taking—it highlights his natural features and makes him all the more attractive. As soon as Prompto finishes, Noctis glances at Ignis, shrugging and grunting, “He offered.”

Prompto caps his pen and stares fondly at Noctis. He looks quite pleased with himself and his work, and he should be: he’s done an excellent job. The dark circles are completely gone, likely hidden under powder and cream. There isn’t a single wrinkle on Noctis’ pretty face or a single hair out of place—even his brows look more defined. Obviously, Prompto doesn’t just take great photographs: he knows how to stage them too.

He doesn’t get nearly enough credit. Ignis can only hope that when he inevitably applies for the Crownsguard, he’s given instant entry and made one of the family. He belongs with them.

Noctis belongs in a classic painting that should be hung in every museum, because it’s hard to imagine anyone or anything more beautiful. Not for the first time, Ignis feels his heart clench just from sheer proximity. He’s so extraordinarily _lucky_.

The photographer doesn’t seem to realize how lucky she is to be in Noctis’ presence. She gestures Prompto out of the way and whips her phone out of her pocket, framing it as though that’s her instrument. Noctis wrinkles his nose, probably sharing Ignis’ disappointment. He frowns through every picture. With a sigh, Ignis vows to have Prompto snap some shots after she leaves. Then Ignis will switch the finished photographs around and present them to the council, who will doubtless find Noctis has never looked so glorious. And they’ll never know it was because of the people who love him most and bring out all the best in him.

The photographer leaves half an hour later, and Prompto all but leaps up for his turn, Gladiolus sneaking in to watch and Ignis gently guiding Noctis into a regal pose. Despite the fussing, he smiles, and so the pictures come out every bit as magnificent as Ignis hoped, and they each take copies home.


End file.
